I was sat on the stage that Sunday, basket of bread in my hands, ready to give out this symbol of Christ’s body to all who came forward.
As I held it out for them to see, for them to take, I was overwhelmed by the notion that THIS is what we are called to do. To hold out Jesus to all we meet, for them to see, for them to taste, and for them to take hold of. To hold out his death, his resurrection, and his life, to offer it freely.
As I spoke of Christ’s body broken to all who came forward I wondered how well I do the same in my daily life? Is Christ in me as visible as that basket of bread to all I meet? Is His life in me, is his grace in me, is his healing in me, as apparent and as obvious to those I speak to, to those I interact with as a basket of bread? Surely if should be, for to me He is more essential than bread.
Some who had never been to the house of God on a communion service before may have been confused by that basket of bread, by that glass of wine. It was so visible to them, and clearly it was special, surely it held significance. Just as they may have had questions about those physical things, so too people who encounter Jesus in me may not know what it is they are seeing, hearing, experiencing, but whether they know who it is, do they know that there is something else there, can they see there is something, someone bigger than I in me? Can they see Christ the hope of glory in me? Can they see the redeemer, healer, lover, helper, in me?
Is my life a basket of bread and a cup of wine on display for all to see? For all to be pointed to Christ, for them to encounter Jesus and meet him personally?